


turning dust right into gold

by blackkat



Series: Mace Windu prompts [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Blind Date, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Mace is done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Mace knows Depa too well. She’s absolutely going to do something terrible, particularly for Mace's dignity.Shaak makes a low sound of amusement. “Padawans are a gift that gives eternally,” she says, smiling, and when Mace shoots her a narrow sideways look, she simply raises a hand. “Am I wrong?”
Relationships: Depa Billaba & Mace Windu, Qui-Gon Jinn/Mace Windu
Series: Mace Windu prompts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941517
Comments: 17
Kudos: 628
Collections: Jedi-Friendly, Mace Windu Rare Pairs, Star Wars Alternate Universes





	turning dust right into gold

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Depa loves Mace like family, but he needs to get laid. Vaapad alone only goes so far. So she sets him up on blind dates.

“Master!” Depa says, beaming, and holds her arms out as Mace approaches.

Mace can't help a small smile, though he’ll deny to absolutely anyone else. Stepping into Depa’s embrace, he lets her kiss his cheek, then pulls back and eyes her carefully.

“Depa,” he says. “You're looking well.”

Depa laughs a little. “Guarding senators on planetary visits has to be good for something,” she says lightly. “I don’t think we ever started a day before noon.”

Mace grimaces, simply glad that he wasn’t the one volunteered for the mission. Being Master of the Order has few benefits, but—that’s probably the biggest one. “It’s good to see you back,” he says instead of that, because Depa will promptly find _some_ sort of way to torture him with pointless missions. She maybe takes after him a little too thoroughly.

“It’s good to be back,” she admits, and raises a brow at him. “I heard you made Tholme take up drinking again.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” Mace says with dignity. “His apprentice is more than enough of a reason to drink.”

“Nothing?” Depa asks, brow sliding higher. Mace regrets ever teaching her that. He frowns deeply at her, and she laughs, because clearly she spent too long with him. “Well, does this _nothing_ have anything to do with fact that he and Master T’ra Saa ended up sharing quarters for a week?”

Mace refuses to let so much as a flicker of reaction show. Depa’s always been too good at picking up on things like that. “I heard it was a malfunction in the air circulation system. Thankfully, that matter’s been addressed.”

“Hmm.” Depa eyes him for another long moment, and then steps back, folding her arms over her chest. “I believe, my master, that you are currently tightly wound.”

Mace is not impressed with the direction of this conversation. Scowling at his former padawan, he says, “Submit your report, Depa. I have a council meeting—”

“In three hours. Ki-Adi-Mundi informed me.” Depa’s eyes crinkle, and she catches Mace's sleeve the way she once did when she was a tiny padawan struggling to keep up. It’s a blatant manipulation tactic, and an incredibly effective one. Mace gives her a dark look, met with that particular look that can only mean bad things for his peace of mind. “Are you really so eager to get rid of your student, Master?”

“I already got rid of you,” Mace says dryly. “I saw you knighted, and I successfully survived the event. One of my more impressive accomplishments, I’ll admit.”

Depa rolls her eyes. “You can sidestep all you want, Master,” she says, “but that won't change the fact that I'm correct. You need to leave the temple once every few seasons.”

“You're implying Coruscant has actual seasons.” At her glare, Mace lets out a breath that’s just too light to be a sigh. “Very well, my former padawan. I assume you had something in mind?” It’s probably a flight, because Depa has always loved starfighters. Or maybe a trip to some of Coruscant’s gardens, another of her passions.

But, instead, Depa hums, tapping a finger against her lips. “Dinner,” she decides. “Tomorrow night, at Dex’s diner?”

Mace doesn’t wrinkle his nose, but it takes some effort. “Charming,” he says, dry. When Depa gives him a look, he sighs. “Very well, dinner. Don’t be late.”

“Not a chance, because _I_ won't be the one eating with you, Maser,” Depa says merrily, and turns, hurrying back down the hall. She waves over her shoulder, and Mace watches her retreat with narrowed eyes, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Mace?” Shaak Ti asks from behind him. She sounds concerned. Mace supposes he doesn’t normally stand in the middle of the hall like a robed barrier.

“I think Depa just set me up on a blind date. I have a bad feeling about this,” he mutters, and pinches the bridge of his nose. Tries to tell himself that Depa isn't going to do anything terrible, but—

Mace knows her too well. She’s _absolutely_ going to do something terrible, particularly for Mace's dignity.

Shaak makes a low sound of amusement. “Padawans are a gift that gives eternally,” she says, smiling, and when Mace shoots her a narrow sideways look, she simply raises a hand. “Am I wrong?”

Unfortunately, she’s not. Mace shakes his head, more at himself than Shaak. “One dinner,” he says, already resigned to all the various paths to disaster it could take.

“Take heart, Master Windu,” Shaak tells him, and claps him on the shoulder. It stings, because Shaak is pure muscle, and Mace hides a grimace. “It likely won't be the end of the world.”

“ _Likely_ ,” Mace echoes, not sure if he’s objecting to the word or emphasizing it. Probabilities have a fascinating and horrifying way of shifting when Depa is involved.

Shaak spreads her hands, not contradicting him. “I hear,” she says, “that there’s an opening for a Watchman in the Arkanis Sector, if you truly object.”

“The Arkanis Sector can't save me from Depa,” Mace says grimly, and Shaak laughs, as if he isn't being absolutely serious.

(Mace takes three steps into the diner, then stops dead. Qui-Gon is sitting at one of the only occupied tables, looking freshly scrubbed and put out about it. Instantly, he makes to turn on his heel—

Depa crosses her arms, staring balefully at him from the other side of the door. Behind her, looking hunted, Qui-Gon’s apprentice offers Mace a guilty smile before he puts Depa between himself and Mace like he’s relying on a sentient shield to keep him from Mace's wrath.

It’s sufficient to save him, mostly because Mace knows the mastermind behind this little stunt. He stares down his former apprentice, but Depa is unmoved, staring back with narrowed eyes.

Mace could walk outside, pick her up, and dump her in the nearest public fountain. It’s a tempting prospect. He considers it for a long, long moment, holding her gaze, but—

He agreed to dinner, and Mace keeps his word. Even when it’s to conniving former apprentices.

Giving her a look that promises this isn't the end of matters, Mace turns on his heel, stalking into the diner and taking a seat across from Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon, for his part, looks startled enough that this likely isn't a setup, which eases Mace's ruffled feathers some. Still, he brings up the menu rather than look at his dining companion, and says sourly, “I see they got to you as well.”

“Obi-Wan cashed in a favor,” Qui-Gon says wryly, and casts a look at the door. “I thought Depa had already been knighted.”

“She was,” Mace says flatly. “If anything, it increased her delight in bothering me.”

Qui-Gon hides a smile behind a hand. “How terrible,” he says solemnly, like Mace can't see his eyes dancing.

“Keep laughing,” Mace says. “Next she’ll be setting me up with Dooku.”

“Force defend,” Qui-Gon says, and this time his smile is out in the open and entirely blatant. “Should I fall on this sword for you, my friend? We can have dinner every night if that would help.”

It’s a neat solution. It also will make Depa _insufferable_. Mace rubs at his eyes, and says, “If her next plan is worse than this one, I may take you up on that.”

“I think I should be offended.” Qui-Gon’s lips are twitching, the bastard.

Mace gives him a flat look. “We’re at the bottom of CoCo Town, in a diner run by a smuggler. _I_ should be offended.”

Qui-Gon raises his hands, laughing a little. “The pickled gartro eggs are quite good.”

Mace is going to make Depa pay for this. Revenge isn't a Jedi trait, but justice is, and Mace will make _sure_ she feels the full weight of his justice for this whole humiliating night.

It could have been worse, but—well. Mace isn't about to admit that, and particularly not to Qui-Gon.

Never, _ever_ to Depa, that’s absolutely certain.)


End file.
